


Drugs, Money, and Family.

by fanfictioncentral45



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-05-01 06:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14514381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictioncentral45/pseuds/fanfictioncentral45
Summary: Castiel Novak is in hiding, only to be found and captured, within the duration of his capture, he meets a man. a man with beautiful, green, eyes.





	1. The man with green eyes.

Castiel ran. Clawing, tripping, grabbing onto anything he could just as long as he could get out. The halls were blurry as he turned at random, desperately trying to find the exit. His side throbbed with an aching pain, blood quickly spreading over his shirt and dripping onto the carpet as he ran. He reached the lobby, ignoring the multitude of yells emanating from the front desk.  
He finally reached the door, slamming his body into it and hitting the ground with a violent ‘hulp’. He stayed there for a good three seconds before remembering he needed to go. Now. He let out a sob as he forced himself to get up. His hands shook at the pain, but he forced them to stop as he rose from the cold ground.  
He tried to run, but being as weak as he was after his adrenaline had dissipated, all he could do was limp. He hobbled forward, using the wall for support. His foot caught on a small crack and he tripped. He quickly regained his footing at the expense of causing more blood to gurgle out of his wound.   
Castiel clenched his fist and turned his whole body to the wall, resting his head against the rough texture, breathing through the pain. He suddenly felt someone grab his arm, pulling him away from the wall and everything went black.

-*-*-*-*-*-

When castiel awoke, he didn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t. He heard voices, saying what he knew were words but he couldn’t make sense of them. He lifted his head from where it had been hanging limply. A small hiss escaped his lips. His side hurt like a bitch and his neck was sore.   
He heard more voices, each one progressively louder then the last. His eyes slowly creaked open to reveal a horrible headache, causing the sun to drill in to his head.   
“Well it's about damn time.” Said a gravelly voice that sounded a little to much like a pedophilic serial killer, and Castiel knew exactly who it was. Castiel’s eyes finally adjusted to the dull lighting in the room. the room was big, covered in flat ceramic tile; stained a dark maroon. the door was straight ahead of Castiel. He was bound to a chair, his shirt was gone and his gunshot wound was stitched, which did absolutely nothing to help with the pain.   
Castiel finished taking in his surroundings and focus on the man in front of him. Castiel immediately sobered out of his dazed trance. Castiel let the name fall out of his mouth with hatred, “Azazel.”  
Azazel grinned, raising up both arms and doing a semi-bow. “In the flesh.” He chimed. It was then castiel saw what he was holding. In his left hand he was holding a thick wooden stick that was at least three feet in length.   
“A bow staff?” Castiel asked smirking, “really? tha-” Castiel was cut off by Azazel hitting him with full force across the face. Castiel's face was slammed into the opposing direction causing pain to travel to the base of his neck. Castiel’s head hung low. His shaggy black hair cascaded below his forehead, covering his eyes. blood filled his mouth,he spat it out onto the floor and looked up at Azazel.   
“I’m not telling you.” Castiel spat. Azazel stiffened “You will.” He said said angrily. Castiel scoffed and with that, Azazel eyes filled with rage. “Listen you little bug,” he said, turning his bow staff and placing the end directly on top of Castiel's newly stitched wound. “I don’t have time for your self righteous bullshit, so i insist,” he put slight pressure on the wound causing Castiel to gasp in pain, “you tell me where my goddamn money is” he applied more pressure and Castiel screamed.   
Pressure built behind Castiel's eyes. He tried to hold down the sobs, ultimately failing. Azazel lifted his staff long enough for Castiel to breathe through the screaming and sobbing.  
“It's not your-n-not your m-money.” Castiel choked. “We had a deal!” Azazel yelled, slamming the staff down on Castiel's fingers. Castiel bit the inside of his cheek till he tasted blood. he looked at his, obviously broken, fingers, then to his gunshot which was now bleeding again.  
“I didn’t understand.” Castiel whispered. Azazel threw his head back in laughter. “Of course you knew, you knew who i was, and what I did. You never make a deal with the devil, it always. Ends. Bad.” Azazel then drove the staff directly into the gaping hole in Castiel's side. He tried to scream, but couldn’t. The pain surged through Castiel, attacking his brain. The world went blurry and then, pitch black.

-*-*-*-*-*-

“Hey, hey, hello!?” A man called. Castiel felt a hand on his shoulder. “ You okay man?” Castiel began to cough, he twisted his spine so one hand was on the ground and he spat blood onto the gritty floor. Castiel grimaced in pain from the movement. His eyes opened and he sat up, which hurt like having a hand rip through your flesh. his eyes rapidly shot in all directions. They rested on the man who had woken him, whose face was only an inch away.  
His eyes. That was the first thing he noticed. Beautiful emeralds of green with equally beautiful flecks of gold. Second, his freckles. They stood splattered across his face. Then, his hair. a light brown that looked like it was styled, but had been slept on since. “You okay?” he asked still not moving away. Castiel's attention was dragged to the man's eyes once again. Castiel managed a muffled ‘yes’, not being able to properly speak from the pain. Castiel raised his hand to where it hurt, feeling a huge welt from where he was hit across his cheek.   
The man still didn’t move his face away. He himself rose a hand and delicately grazed the welt with the tips of his fingers sending shivers down Castiel's spine. Castiel decided to be the one to pull away. “W-who are you?” He asked. The man didn’t answer, just stared at castiel in pity.  
Castiel looked around the room he was in. A tiny room with beige walls, only about six feet long and four feet wide. More of a large closet. Cracks spread over the walls and the ceilings bowed inward, probably from water damage. The door was thick hardwood, which meant for the man to have heard him screaming, the room he was being tortured in must be close.  
The man leaned back and was now sitting three feet away, one of legs bending upwards and the other crossed under it on the floor. “Who are you?” Castiel asked again. The man hesitated, but replied, “Dean.” Castiel would had never admit it, but he inwardly smiled at the name. He rested his back against the wall on instinct, hoping he didn’t see his back while he was knocked out. “What did you do to make Azazel mad?” Castiel asked. Dean raised an eyebrow, probably expecting Castiel to tell him his name in return, but he didn’t.   
Dean grew a small smirk and shook his head at the ground. Dean slammed his head back on the opposing wall. “Son of a bitch.” He whispered in exasperation. He scooted closer to Castiel and leaned in so he was about six inches away from Castiel’s face. “Nothing,” he whispered. Castiel scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?” Castiel asked.   
Dean sat back on his heels, rubbing his forehead. “Azazel sent me in here.” He said. Castiel’s eyes went wide. His breathing turned rapid causing him to belch sideways to clutch his wound. Dean grabbed his shoulders to stop him from hitting the ground. “Back off.” Castiel snapped. Dean backed his hands into the air in surrender. “Listen, Castiel, I hate the bastard more than you do, he still thinks i'm his loyal little soldier.”  
Castiel was looking at the rather disgusting floor, trying desperately not to shiver over the tingles Dean had left on his shoulders. Castiel tried to back up more but the wall wouldn’t allow it. “What do you mean?” Castiel asked. Dean hesitated. Cas made a mental note that he seemed to do that a lot. “I was in a squabble for money, so I started working for him. by the time I finished paying off my debt I wanted to leave, but Azazel wouldn’t have it. He uh, he had his men kidnap me, and he had his go with his favorite pick sicker than he…… he.” Castiel flicked his eyes to Deans. Dean was struggling to say it, but Castiel new. “He whipped you.” Castiel whispered.  
It was small. So small that Castiel had almost missed it, but Dean slightly flinched at Castiel's statement. Dean nodded. “You to?” Dean asked. Castiel shook his head. “How much do you know about the deal I had with Azazel?” Castiel asked. Dean shrugged. “Enough to know he needs a location.” He replied, Dean had begun picking a the outer edge of his shoe. Castiel swallowed. “Let just say he threatened to.”   
Why am i even telling him this? Castiel wondered to himself. “How do i know this isn’t a trick?” Castiel asked. Dean pressed his lips together, “guess you don't.”  
At that Castiel knotted his eyebrows together and tilted his head ever so slightly. Dean looked away from Castiel's glare, thinking.   
“Then,” Dean began, “I’ll have to prove it to you.” Castiel depend his confused look. “How?” He asked bluntly.  
Dean smirked, “Im breaking you out.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean attempt to escape, key word, attempt.

Castiel grunted as he adjusted his position before looking back up at the literal definition of perfection sitting only a few inches away. Castiel slowly inhaled letting out a weak, “why?” A mischievous smirk crept onto Deans face. “Dude, you were able to hide from Azazel for almost a month, that’s twenty-eight more days than anyone I’ve heard of. I know Azazel, I know his men, his routine if we stay together till he gives up, we’re out.” Dean’s smirk had grown into a smile that lit up his entire face, and it was damn adorable. Castiel noted how his half smile curved at the perfect angle, his green eyes lighting up and his body pushing rays of sunshine out of every damn pour. Castiel caught himself from delving too far down that path, already feeling pressure induced sensations were there shouldn’t be.  
It seemed too good to be true, which probably meant it wasn’t. Castiel didn’t believe Dean for a minute, Azazel was smart. He had tried tricking Castiel before, and he had to hand it Azazel, he was the best at manipulating anything and anyone to his benefit. Dean was no exception. So ya’, Castiel would play along, until he found an opening to run. He would try in any way possible to get out, he needed to go home, he needed to get back, back to Audrey.  
“So?” Dean asked expectantly. Castiel shivered, which only reminded him that he was shirtless, and bleeding. “As good as your offer sounds, I’m not exactly in the best condition for an escape,” Castiel said gesturing to his gunshot that was most obviously infected, courtesy of the unsanitary floor. “I have a plan, I can get you out. If I can convince Azazel to let me guard you, I can get you out.” Dean explained. Castiel hesitated, as to not look like he was giving in too easily, “okay,” Castiel said trying to stand. “Okay, what do I have to do?”   
Castiel managed to half-stand, using the wall for support. Dean smiled before answering, “wait.” Castiel slumped farther down the wall at that. “For how long?” Castiel huffed. Dean shrugged. “At least for an hour or two.”  
Castiel's side seared with pain as he slid back down to the floor. A sob escaped his lips. Dean looked at him in worry, “are you going to last that long?” He asked carefully. Castiel blew air through clenched teeth before nodding hurriedly. “Go,” he grunted.  
Dean stood and knocked on the door once, twice. The door creaked open to reveal a short stocky man with black hair. Dean smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “He outed me.” He said. The man shook his head lightly and looked up at him. “Bollocks. You know he won’t be happy about this right?” The man asked with a British accent. Dean clenched his jaw tightly before nodding. The short man just sighed before stepping aside for Dean.  
Dean turned slightly and locked eyes with Castiel for only a moment. His eyes spilled out emotions that Castiel couldn’t quite read before Dean walked away. The short man looked back at Castiel. He looked as if he was about to say something, but thought better of it, closing the door. Castiel heard the ever so quiet click of the deadbolt.  
Castiel was left alone to his thoughts. His main cause of thinking being, would this actually work? He didn’t know. He had lost substantial amounts of blood, no doubt looked horrible, he couldn’t breathe without hurting and he sure as hell couldn’t run. There was no way he could trust Dean, he wasn’t that dumb, but how could he escape without him? The answer was simple, he couldn’t. The only thing he could do was wait, in a cold room, by himself, with massive blood loss and the knowledge if he fell asleep he wouldn’t wake up. He tried to stay awake, and for the most part, he did, only momentary vision loss. Or so he called it.  
Time past. How much, Castiel had no clue. His concept of time was non-existent. It felt like forever, by this time Castiel had tried to stand several times which ended in his wound almost reopening. Knowing that he couldn’t stay conscious if he lost any more blood, Castiel ripped most of one pant leg off and fastened it awkwardly around his abdomen.  
There was a small knock on the door, so small Castiel would have dismissed it as his overactive imagination mixed with dehydration had the door not opened seconds after. Dean slipped through the small opening and turned, slowly letting the door click in place. Castiel tried to say his name but by this time most of his face was swollen.  
Dean turned around and the small curve his perfect lips had formed dissipated into a flat line. “Oh god, are you okay?” he asked bending on one knee. Castiel shook his head lightly. Dean bent down, sliding his arm around Castiel's waist and helping him up with a grunt. “All right, come on,” Dean said heading toward the door.  
Castiel wanted so badly to rip away from Dean, walk by himself but in his current condition, he had to do the opposite. Dean basically carried Castiel to the door. Dean slowly opened the door, he looked in both directions and then back to Castiel's eyes. The piercing blueness of his eyes amazed Dean. Dean wondered for a moment if it's even possible to have such eyes before shaking himself of the thought and heading to the right. “We need to hurry, Azazel has his men take a lap around every twenty minutes,” Dean said in a husky whisper that sent shivers down Castiel's spine. Not that he would ever admit that.  
The pace was slow since Dean was one step away from a bridal style escape, which Castiel thought was just unfair, he not only had to escape while being shot, he had to do all the while trying not to collapse due to basically being carried by a man who was the closest damn thing to perfection Castiel had ever seen. Dean was taller than Castiel, and that caused him to be lifted an inch or two off the ground every step. Castiel's uninjured side was pressed against Deans' torso and fucking god it felt amazing. Castiel could feel every curve and divet through Deans baggy Led Zeppelin T-shirt, and at that moment he hoped to god Dean didn’t look down.  
The dimly lit hall had thick white carpet and walls with blue paint peeling off. It continued for a while, the occasional turn here and there. Castiel began to believe they would make it without incident. Castiel was still debating whether Dean was playing him or not, at first, he was sure Dean was, but nothing had interrupted their escape and, well, Castiel couldn’t quite put his finger on it but there was something about Dean that just felt….. pure.  
“We're almost there,” Dean grunted. At that Castiel assumed he was more weight than Dean would be comfortable with and focussed on actually trying to help somewhat. Castiel put his foot firmly on the ground and pried himself away from Dean. Dean momentarily froze and locked eyes with Castiel before loosening his grip. Not all the way, just enough that Castiel could limp alongside him. Deans hand rested low on Castiel's hip causing heat to cover Castiel's face. He Avoided eye contact with him even though his blush probably wouldn’t show due to the fact he got bitch slapped by the bad part of a neutered tree.  
Walking semi-alone hurt, but Castiel forced himself to keep on going. It was not for Dean's benefit, it was so that he knew if be needed to get out then he could. Or so he told himself.  
They rounded what Dean said was the last corner and went through a large door and into an even larger room that was empty except for glass cases lining the walls with random thingamabobs placed throughout. Oh, and two large men standing in the middle. They were huge buff men that could easily kill Castiel on a good day, and he wasn’t exactly in pristine condition. Castiel started to panic. He turned to Dean only to see his face was an endless void of emotionlessness.  
Castiel swallowed as he came to realize, he did this. Dean did this. How could Castiel let his guard down like that? He pushed away from Dean with a muffled yell from the pain in his side. Dean tried to get ahold of him only to have him slam himself into the case causing it to shatter, slitting his back. Dean tried to talk only to be pushed out of the way by one of the two men who grabbed Castiel and slammed him into the case, once, twice, three times. Castiel heard screaming, he didn’t know if it was his or someone else's but he was more focused on the pain that spread everywhere. His vision slowed and all he desperately wanted was for it to be over, to give in to the dark that was pulling him away.   
Images flashed through Castiel's mind, hundreds of them. His mom, His sister, his best friends, but one image kept repeating till it alone swallowed Castiel's attention. A little girl with fire red hair and the biggest blue eyes you could imagine. her voice, her laugh, just her. Audrey.  
“No.” Castiel croaked. He felt himself sink back into reality. “What was that fucktruck?” The bruting man above him asked. Castiel felt his slit fingertips fumble behind him till he found a big enough piece of glass. He gripped it tight enough to cause even more blood to escape his hand. “No.” he repeated before trusting the glass as deep as he could into the man's jugular. Blood erupted squirting in all directions as the man dropped to the floor pulling Castiel with him. Castiel hurriedly removed the glass for future use and grabbed the man's gun from his waist and shot blindly at the fuzzy shapes running across his vision. They were loud, hurting Castiel's ears enough to make him scream, but he didn’t. He ran towards the general direction of the door only to feel a hand grip his shoulder. “I said no!” Castiel screamed as loud as he could before spinning and stabbing the glass into the man.   
Castiel ran through the door and as far as he could before he reached the door. He all but slammed it open and was immediately blinded by the brightest goddamn thing in the fucking universe. The sun beat down on him as he rapidly blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden sunlight. He glanced around and managed to make out that he was in an alleyway before he heard a voice and he whipped around to see a red-haired woman with a gun pointed at him in the doorway he had just escaped through. Honestly, I’ll just put it bluntly, Castiel had had enough of just about everything, and this bitch had the audacity to smile as she stood there. Castiel rose his own gun to shoot only to realize it was gone, probably inside.  
As inspired as Castiel had been to get home, the adrenaline couldn’t last forever and it chose that moment to start fading. Castiel inwardly panicked no no no no. he felt his knees slowly dissolve underneath him. The women took a step forward and she crumpled to the ground. Castiel looked where she was on the laying, blood surrounded her. Castiel's brain wasn’t functioning enough to connect the events happening before him. He glanced up to see a man where she had been standing a moment before, a tall man with green eyes and light brown hair. Blood was spreading on his shoulder, soaking through his shirt. Dean tentatively put his hand where the blood emanated from. He pulled it back looked from it to Castiel. “Really?” Dean asked with light humor in his face.   
Castiel let himself fall. He had absolutely no energy left. Colors turned to shadows. He heard someone say his name but didn’t pay any attention to it. Right now he just wanted to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

“Are you gonna kill him?” Audrey asked looking innocently up at Castiel. Castiel immediately snapped his head up from the book he was reading to see her sleepily walking into the living room. She hopped up onto Castiel's lap and looked at him expectantly. “Who?” Castiel asked shocked, at the words his angel and just said. “My daddy,” she whispered fiddling with her fingers in her lap, “I heard you last night yelling. You're mad at him.” She looked up with tears brimming her eyes. “Please don't kill him, I know he left but, he's my daddy. You said family is what matters and he’s mine. You can’t-- you can’t” her voice broke and tears dripped onto her blue pajamas. “Hey hey hey,” Castiel said placing his book on the table and pulling her into a hug, “I was mad, but I would never hurt your dad. He’s my family too.” He whispered cradling Audrey in his arms. He ran his fingers through her red hair whispering comforting words in her ear. “Cassie,” she said as she pulled back to look at him, only her face was completely mutilated. Blood surfaced through several cuts that bent outwards. Castiel jumped back in pure terror and dropped her on the floor. His eyes filled with tears as she started sobbing violently. “Cassie, he did this. He found me.”   
Castiel, once he came to his senses, dove forward to help, only for her figure to melt away from existence into the hardwood floor. “Audrey!” He screamed in panic. He rapidly spun around at the sound of Azazel's unmistakable laugh. A small sob emanated from behind him. Castiel turned to see an exact replica of Audrey as a grown woman standing before him. Tears streamed from her eyes, she glanced up at Castiel as he saw her bleeding wrists. thick blood dripped from her clenched fist to the ground as she sobbed again. “Cas, why did you leave me?” She asked in a loud voice. “I was alone!” She screamed, “but you left. I guess I left too.” she said raising her bloody arms.  
Castiel tried to say something, but once again the images around him changed. He was now in the park on Middleston, right down the street from his childhood home. On a swing set in front of him sat two teenagers. One was himself from years before, the other was the women he had just seen. Anna.  
Young Castiel was holding Anna’s hand as they swayed lightly. Anna’s other hand rested on her bulging stomach. She looked up at Castiel, tears streaming down her face. “I’m scared,” she choked. The other Castiel squeezed her hand in reassurance. “It’s okay, I won't leave, I’m here.” He said lightly.  
At that moment Audrey appeared next to Castiel, joining him in observing his past. Her face had returned to normal, well, almost. there was something behind her eyes, an emptiness Castiel knew all too well. “You lied.” She stated.   
That was it, Castiel broke.   
He collapsed to his knees, and screamed.

-*-*-*-*-*-

Castiel opened his eyes screaming. It was all he could do to drown out the pain. He sat up gasping and coughing. Pain ricocheted through him, from his side to his leg, to his back. His eyes widened as the realization hit, it was a dream. All of it, Audrey, Anna, a dream. A sudden figure appeared beside him and he jumped away, slamming himself into the wall. Blurry shadows were all Castiel could see as he felt a hand grasp his shoulders. As his vision slowly came back, so did his hearing. A rough voice was repeated his name.   
Dean.   
Castiel stopped pulling away and settled back to where he was sitting originally.  
They were in a room, most likely a hotel room judging from the cheaply painted walls and green carpet. He sat in one of two beds, Dean standing beside him by a chair, holding his forearms in place. A needle was in his arm, the tube leading up to a blood bag hanging on a random nail in the wall. Castiel was not only shirtless but pantsless as well, the only thing covering him being his plaid boxers. He had a bandage around his left leg and stitches on his side, he couldn’t see his back but it felt like there were stitches there as well. The thought of Deans hands on him, while he was asleep, caused heat to cover his face. A crumpled blanket lay at the end of the bed covered in blood.   
Castiel looked at Dean who himself looked like he hadn't slept for days. He was wearing a baggy T-shirt but you could still see a bulge from the bandages on his shoulder. Dean followed Castiel's gaze. “Did I?” Castiel croaked dryly from the lack of moisture in his mouth, “did I stab you?” He finished. Dean chuckled, “yeah, I don’t blame you though, I would have done the same.”  
At that Deans smile faded and remorse filled his eyes. “I didn’t know,” he whispered looking at the ground, “I honestly thought you were dead as soon as Alistar grabbed you. I yelled at him to stop but shit if he would’ve listened to me. But then, after I was sure you were gone, you weren’t. I can’t think about how much that must have hurt, I would have never made it that far.” Dean's voice lowered again, “I’m sorry.”  
“It’s okay,” he rasped, “I stabbed you, I think we’re even.” He offered a smile to make Dean feel better. It seemed to do the trick because Dean smiled back. “You need anything?” Dean asked. “Water,” Castiel stated. Dean nodded and went grabbed a water bottle from a case of it on the floor and handed it to him. Castiel greedily chugged the water, not caring about manners.  
He sighed in relief when the bottle was empty. He let his eyes wander around the room, they flicked to the blood bag and then to Dean again, who was now on his own bed rummaging through a duffle bag. “Hey,” Castiel called causing Dean to look up, “where did you get the blood?” Castiel asked. Dean smiled proudly and fuck Castiel enjoyed that. “There’s a blood bank not far from here, shitty security, so I took a sample of your blood, found out your type and stole a couple of bags.”  
Castiel almost smiled, but instead just offered an understanding, “oh.” Castiel shook the feeling of importance from his mind. He wasn’t important, Dean just needed him to escape Azazel, Dean literally just met him and he himself said he just needed him to stay safe from Azazel. Thinking of Azazel made Castiel want to either hit something or throw up. He tried to hide it, but he was fucking terrified of that man. Castiel's mind flashed back to his dream. Tears piled behind Castiel's eyes and he was overcome by fear, and the burning need to talk to Audrey, to his little angel.  
“Dean, can I use your phone?” Castiel asked, begging his voice to stay still. “Hmm?” Dean asked. Castiel pushed himself up against the wall. “I have someone I need to call.” He turned his head only to see Dean already there, handing him his phone. “Thank you,” Castiel said, grabbing the phone with his right hand since his left had several broken fingers. he swiped the screen to see a picture of Dean with a much taller man laughing. Dean was gripping the man by the shoulder, bending forward, the taller man smiled widely and had symmetrical dimples, his long hair making look like a moose almost. Castiel looked back to Deans' face and Castiel could almost hear Dean through the phone. Castiel decided to stop ogling the man he just met and taped the phone icon.   
Castiel wasn’t usually the type to judge but, this was just sad. Dean literally only had six contacts. Namely, Sam, Bobby, Joe, Ellen, Pamela's pizza, and AT&T services. He smiled lightly and clicked on the keypad. His thumb hesitated over the dials before looking up at Dean again, who was now cleaning some sort of handgun, presumably the one he stole. “Could I have a moment alone?” Castiel whispered. Deans face was confused for a brief moment before he nodded. “I need to get us some food anyway,” Dean said standing and heading toward the door. He set the gun on the dresser and continued on. He shrugged on his leather jacket and then bent down to slip his boots on. Oh my fucking god. Castiel thought to himself. Deans already tight jeans pressed closer to his skin, outlining the perfectness of his ass. Castiel trembled with thoughts of would he could do to him if had the chance, pictures of his hands slowly running down deans back, gripping his hair, hearing Dean moan……….... Castiel stopped himself from forming any more images as soon as he felt his boxers tighten.   
Castiel awkwardly palmed himself, hoping to god Dean didn’t turn around. He really had nothing to hide it, being mostly naked and all. Dean rose and opened the door, “see ya, Novak,” he called before closing the door behind him. He sat there, face burning hot. Did he really just get off just by looking at Dean? He mentally pounded himself.  
After shaking the idea from his head, Castiel dialed Charlie’s number from memory. The phone rang once, twice, three times before she answered. “Hello?” She asked.   
“Charlie, it's me.”  
There was silence on the other end before sudden screaming. Castiel flinched away from the speaker, still being able to hear every word Charlie was yelling. “What the actual HELL have you been doing!? I’ve been worried sick, I thought you were dead, and I sure as hell can’t call the police without outing either me or you! Are you okay, where are you, when are you coming home? You were supposed to be here three days ago! Audrey has been asking for you constantly for THREE days, three days Cas, and I couldn’t give her an answer! Do you know what I would do without you!? I can’t raise a kid, and the search isn’t going anywhere and good FUCK Cas, are you okay?”  
“I--I I’m okay.” He replied, guilt flooding his voice. “I just can’t come home yet. Charlie, he…” His voice fell, “he,” Castiel tried again, only to fail. “He found you.” Charlie finished for him in a whisper. Castiel didn’t answer, just nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Oh god Cas, are you okay?” She asked in a hushed tone, “how bad is it?” Castiel hesitated before answering, “bad. I got shot, and it got reopened a couple times, I’m pretty sure it got infected but it's better now. I broke two fingers and have stitches in my back. He had me at a warehouse, he uh, he,” memories flashed across his mind, and he felt the physical pain come with them. “He interrogated me, but I didn’t tell him. I lost a lot of blood…” Castiel trailed off. “How did you get out?” she asked. Cas thought about that, well, of course, Dean got him out, but should he tell her? Not that Charlie would mind, as long as Castiel was alive. But she was usually extremely protective of him, and Dean would be no exception. He figured there was no use in lying so, told her in the vaguest way possible. “A guy got me out, he wanted my help to hide from Azazel, I agreed so he got me out,” Castiel stated.   
Silence. Then, words, “how long?” She begged. Castiel bit his lip before answering, “I don't know, I’m still pretty bad, and we have to wait till everything dies down.” Castiel heard a small voice on the other end if the line. He inhaled through his teeth, “is that Audrey?” he asked. Instead of Charlie's voice replying he got a small voice, “Cassie?” She yelled excitedly. Tears threatened to spill as Castiel replied, “hey baby,” He smiled when she gasped, she was always on for the overdramatic. “When are you coming home?” She whined, “Charlie doesn't know how to play spaceship.” Castiel chuckled and let his tears fall, not caring anymore. “I can’t come home for a while, I'm-- I’m staying with a friend for a bit, just till it's safe.” Castiel could hear her grumble underneath her breath. Castiel rose his eyebrows in question, “what was that young lady?” He asked sternly. “It's not fair, you're always gone. I miss you.” He heard a small sob on the other end and was immediately felt sorry. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’ll be home in a couple weeks. I promise as soon as I get home I’ll play Spaceship with you a--” Castiel was cut off when the door opened and Dean walked in.  
Castiel wiped his eyes quickly, trying to avoid Deans gaze. He could feel Dean's eyes on him until he moves over to the small table by the window. Castiel pulled his knees to his chest, trying to relieve the pressure in his side. “With ice cream?” Audrey asked snapping his attention back to the phone. “What?” He asked. “Ice cream.” she stated, “for spaceship.” Castiel chuckled, “yes, we can have ice cream. Now hand the phone back, my friend just came back.”   
“Okay Cassie!” she pumped.  
“Hello? You still there?” Charlie asked.  
“Yeah I'm here, take care of her okay? I’ve gotta go.” He didn’t wait for an answer before hanging up the phone. Dean looked up from where he was, smiling widely. “Friend huh? Well, I'm flattered but I don't think I'm ready for that kind of commitment yet.” He said dramatically. Castiel chuckled deeply. He made a movement to get up before Dean stopped him. He was already right next to him, his hand putting pressure on his chest and the other gripping his shoulder, “Woah, Woah, Woah, easy tiger, you're not ready to get up.” Castiel glared at Dean, “Dean if I don’t move now, it will just get harder too. Given that you properly stitched me up, I should be able to move without incident. So, let me sit at the table.” Castiel stated. Dean rose his eyebrows in surprise at Castiel's resistance. “Fine, but let me at least help you.” Dean eyed Castiel and Castiel returned it with a glare of stubbornness. It continued like that for a while until he gave in, nodding.  
Dean smiled in satisfaction and slowly removed the needle from Castiel’s arm, applying pressure with his thumb as he grabbed a cotton ball and tape from Castiel’s nightstand. Castiel watched the concentration in Deans face as he finished. Dean then proceeded to pick Castiel up bridal style. “Hey!” Castiel called. He tried to escape but his side still hurt like he had been tenderized by a meat mallet. Dean gently sat Castiel down and sat across from him. Castiel begged the blush to go away as he glared at Dean. Dean smiled cheekily, “what?” He chuckled, “you said you wanted to sit at the table, your at the table. I’m sorry but I’d rather deal with you than a dead body. After all, you're my ticket to freedom.”  
Cas could think of no retort to the obvious loophole, so he simply stuck out his tongue in response. Dean shook his head chuckling. He grabbed the paper bag, “brought to you by the suspicious convenience store across the street, sandwiches.” Dean said as he set it in front of Castiel. He took it without complaint, practically ripping open the thin plastic wrap it was encased in. Castiel took a large bite and made a sinful as he did. “Hungry much?” Dean asked, taking a bite of his own. Castiel nodded.   
Castiel finished his sandwich, looking up at Dean. “where are we? How long have I been asleep? we have to leave, we can’t stay in one place, he’ll find us. What kind of hotel is this? And how-”  
“Hey, calm down.” Dean interrupted. “We are at the green bear no-tell motel. You have been asleep for over a day, I have moved you twice. I know how Azazel operates and his men search the nearby motels from west to east, they already checked this one. We are safe for at most three days before we have to move again. After that, I know a really good place that we could stay for however long we want. It's a trap hotel.” He finished. Castiel looked at him in the eye. “A trap motel?” He asked. Dean nodded. “It’s one of L.A.P.D’s new ways of monitoring illegal activity. They set up hotels near known gangs and drug rings, waiting until one of the checks in. We know of two that are for sure trap motels, we are going the Ace’s place.”  
Castiel sat there in silence. Dean really knew how to avoid Azazel, he didn’t even need his help.  
Once they had finished, they made light conversation. A question, a joke, discussing random things they had in common. The sun outside the window dropped low, casting hypnotizingly orange streaks to slither across the sky, it was then Dean smirk faded into a serious scowl. He looked down at the table, shame, or what Castiel thought was shame in his eyes. “You okay?” Castiel asked. Dean glanced up to his eyes. “Novak, when we got here, I had to clean you up, and when I started on your back to make sure there was no glass in the wounds and me…..” his voice trailed off.  
Castiel froze. He saw them, he thought, he saw the scars.  
“Listen Castiel, you don’t have to tell me, i just--”  
“It's fine.” Castiel interrupted, totally not affected by Dean calling him by his first name. “My,” Castiel started. He took a deep breath in a shut his eyes to keep the burning at bay. “My dad, he would get drunk sometimes, and he just didn’t…. he didn’t think straight when he came home.” Then, there was silence. It spanned for a couple minutes before Dean stood up. Castiel let his heavy eyelids open. Dean and him locked eyes. Dean’s forlorn expression killed Castiel, not that he would admit that. Castiel looked down at the table, focusing on the patterns as they sat in awkward silence. After an eternity Dean yawned, headed to his bed, and pulled off his shirt.  
Let me rephrase that from Castiel's perspective *clears throat and inhales*; HE PULLED OFF HIS FUCKING SHIRT! Castiel was absolutely fucking sure he would not be able to control his urges if he looked at what Dean was hiding under that shirt, so he turned away. Dean didn’t get in his bed, instead, he also pulled off his pants, which Castiel only knew because he heard Deans belt hit the floor, not because he was looking. (why would you think that? Pervert.) Dean proceeded to head into the bathroom that only had a curtain dividing it from the room.   
Cas let out the breath he had been holding, realizing he needed to get to his bed. He let out a soft grunt at the thought but he knew, the longer he waited to move the sorer he would be. As he got up his side conveniently tried to murder him, and good hell he hated it, he had stitches on the side of his abdomen, on his back and it was very inconvenient. Every cut on Castiel's back burned and his fingers screamed, but, eventually, after having to sit down again several times to recuperate, he stood up. Well, sort of. He was hunched over, favoring his uninjured side and limping his way over. Considering his bed was about only two yards away, it took him quite a long time to reach it. Finally, he reached his bed and slowly let his body rest upon it. He didn’t bother to suppress the yelp that pushed itself out of him, and he kept on groaning, the pain persisting no matter if he moved or not. He briefly thought about what the people next door must be thinking due to the various groaning spells he was releasing but waved the thought from his mind. He managed to curl himself into a ball of pain to release the pressure. It wasn’t until he felt a hand on his shoulder did he notice Dean gotten out of the shower. “Are you okay?” He asked carefully. Castiel let out a grunt in response, earning a sigh from Dean.   
Castiel felt the bed shift and he looked over his shoulder to see Dean sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed. Luckily for Castiel's sanity, Dean had clothes on. He wore loose sweatpants and a white AC/DC shirt. Their eyes locked, a blue that the ocean was jealous of, and a green as beautiful as the garden of Eden. “So,” Deans said breaking the silent stare, “who were you talking to?” he finished.  
Castiel sat up, replacing a groan with a shuddering inhale. Once finished he looked straight at Dean. “If you don’t mind me asking.”  
“My angel,” Castiel stated. Dean waited, an expectant look on his face. He put up his hands in a slightly impatient gesture, “care to elaborate?” He asked.  
Castiel bit his lip in contemplation, then shook his head. Dean rose a questionable eyebrow but shrugged and went to his bed, shutting off the lamp and plunging them into darkness. Castiel didn't have a blanket, but it was warm enough in the room that he didn't need one.   
Hours past and Castiel was still very awake, he really did try, but every time he closed his eyes he saw him. Azazel. He felt the pain all over again, he saw Audrey screaming in pain, heard Azazel laugh as he ripped her apart, he saw Charlie crying and for some unknown reason, he saw Dean. Dean, just Dean. All of him, his eyes, his hands, his hair, his random splatter of light freckles that people could only see if they were close enough to him.  
He sat there for a long time, trying to sleep but ultimately failing, and conveniently that is when he realized he needed to pee. Shit. “Mother dick,” He whisper-groaned. He slowly rolled and sat up so his feet grazed the ground. His eyes rested on the lump of bedding only visible due to a light silhouette caused by the moonlight filtering through the window. He ripped his eyes away from Dean and focused on the task in front of him. Castiel rose himself the tiniest bit off the bed as a small creek escaped the wooden frame. Again small, but it was loud enough for the sleeping Dean to stir.  
He craned his head toward Cas with a soft mumble. Deans lidded eyes glanced around hurriedly before resting on Cas. “Lemme help you,” he managed groggily. He tossed his blanket off himself lazily. “No Dean--” Castiel was cut off by Dean, “what you need?” he said even more tiredly if that was even possible. Castiel bit his lip awkwardly as heat spread across his face, “Dean I, I need to pee.” Castiel said carefully. “huh, well I can’t help you with that Cas.” Dean said before collapsing back to his bed. Castiel shuddered in surprise at the use of his nickname. Very few people called him that. Mainly his friends and…. Anna. Dean shuffled into a more comfortable position and resumed his slumber. Castiel wasn’t as sore as earlier, but he still wanted to die with every fraction of a movement, but at least he could move. As painful as it was he made it to the bathroom. He quickly hobbled over to the toilet to relieve himself. Once he was done, he turned to wash his hands only to physically jolt at the sight before him.   
His face looked like someone shoved him into a woodchipper, not to mention the gigantic welt on his cheek that was burbling with a foreign substance against a thin sheet of skin. There was a slit through his eyebrow, another on the cheek opposing his welt covered one. He looked to his bullet wound, it was stitched excellently but it still hurt. It's slightly pink ridges rose above his skin folded inward slightly, he could move a lot more now, at least he could make it to the bathroom without falling. (Castiel, ever the optimist.)   
Even though he knew it was a horrible idea, he did. Even though he didn’t want to, he did. Even though he purposefully avoided looking at it, he did.   
He turned as far as he could, contorting his center till he had a clear view of his back in the mirror, and he was terrified of the sight before him. It was so much worse than he remembered.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, what'd ya think? first fic, any questions, comments, or constructive criticisms, feel free to comment.


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